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By The Numbers, They’re In The Wrong

, , , , | Right | December 13, 2021

I work in a photo studio. The phone rings and I answer it. Before I can even get my greeting out:

Caller: “I’m here for my appointment. Why aren’t you open?!”

Me: “We’re open.”

Before I can continue:

Caller: “No, you’re not! The door is locked, and I have an appointment now! You’d better unlock the door!”

I look at our door with no one at it. Maybe they’re invisible?

Me: “The door isn’t locked.”

Caller: *Interrupting again* “YES, IT IS!”

I hear the sound of a person pulling on a door back and forth and then pounding on it.

Caller: “Can’t you hear me at the door?! Stop ignoring me and open the f****** door!”

Me: “What address are you at?”

Caller: “At your address!”

Me: *Sighs* “Can you just tell me what address you’re at?”

They scream the building address.

Me: “Which unit?”

Caller: “IT DOESN’T MATTER! NOW LET ME IN, D*** IT!”

Me: “There are twenty-five different units in the building; some aren’t rented out. We’re in unit nineteen. There is no one at our door and it is unlocked. Now, look at the number above the door… What is the number?”

Now the customer is somewhat quiet and definitely realizing their own stupidity.

Caller: “Um… seven.”

Me: “We’re a few doors down towards the end.”

I got no apology for the behavior, and no eye contact indicated they knew that their self-entitled butt was way out of line.

While it would be awesome if I was doing well enough to own the entire building and need it for all the work I’m doing, even then, I would only have one door open for people to enter through, and you would need to use the one with the right number above it.

Not Very Closed-Minded, Part 48

, , | Right | November 29, 2021

I own a photography store, selling cameras and doing passports, etc. We open at 1:00 pm on Mondays, but I happen to be at the store on Monday morning because I need to get something and am planning on just grabbing what I need and going home.

A woman tries to get in through the locked door. The door has a sign on it that says we’re closed and another sign with our opening hours. I haven’t turned on any of the lights, so it’s also very dark inside. The woman starts banging on the door. I am just about to leave so I go outside.

Me: “Ma’am, we were closed.”

She doesn’t take it well and immediately demands:

Customer: “I want to speak to the manager.”

Me: “I’m the owner.”

She then shouted and cursed so much so that the manager of the supermarket across the street came out to help me. She then tried to make the supermarket manager force me to open my store almost four hours early.

Didn’t work. Never saw the woman again.

Related:
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 47
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 46
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 45
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 44
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 43

This Won’t Have A Picture-Perfect Resolution

, , , , | Right | November 2, 2021

I own a photo lab and studio; we do exactly zero medical services here. I get a call.

Me: “[Studio], how can I help you?”

Caller: “Do you take [Insurance]?”

Me: *Pauses* “We’re a photo lab and studio. I think you called the wrong number.”

Caller: “I know who I called; do you take my insurance?!”

Me: “We aren’t a medical facility. I do photos.”

Caller: “I know what you do. That’s why I called you. Do you take my insurance?!”

Me: “You want a doctor’s office; we’re not in the medical field. You called the wrong number. I can’t help you.”

Caller: “I know who I called and what you do! Now answer my question. Do you take [Insurance]?!

Me: “No, we don’t.”

Caller:Why not?!

Me: “Because we’re not a doctor’s office.”

Caller: “You’re useless!” *Slams the phone down*

I wish I could charge insurance companies for my services; I could raise my rates then!

She’s Playing Hardball

, , , , | Right | February 26, 2021

I am working at a retail portrait studio. A woman brings her young son in for an appointment and I’m going over the details of their session.

Customer: “…and then I want a picture of him throwing a baseball at the camera.”

I know we have a foam baseball available, so I agree, and we get started. I hand the little boy the foam baseball.

Customer: “No! It has to be this one!”

She hands the ball to her little boy.

Me: “Ma’am, that is a real baseball. I can’t let him throw that toward the camera.”

Customer: “Oh, relax, it’ll be fine! Throw it, [Child]!”

He throws it, but I have to put the camera down and duck out of the way.

Customer: “You missed it!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m serious. I could get hurt, you could get hurt, the equipment could get damaged… I can’t let him throw the baseball at the camera.”

Customer: “He’s not even three yet; he can’t throw that hard! It’ll be fine!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we cannot do it. He can hold the ball, but if you want him to throw a ball, it has to be the foam one.”

She calls me a name under her breath, but I choose to let it slide.

Customer: “Fine. I guess you don’t care about serving the customer. We can let him hold it only, but you can bet I’ll be leaving a negative review!”

She hands him the real baseball and I pick the camera back up and get ready to photograph again. She waits until I’ve taken a couple of pictures of him holding it.

Customer: “Okay, now throw it, baby!”

He throws the ball at me as hard as he can, and his little aim is dead on. He breaks the lens hood on the camera, sending it flying back into my face and giving me a black eye.

Customer: “Did you get it? Tell me you got it!”

Me: “No, ma’am, our session is over.” 

Customer: “What?! I had a whole other outfit!”

Me: “No. The camera is broken and now I have to fill out an incident report.”

I get up and exit the room, and she follows me, screaming.

Customer: “I’m not leaving without my pictures! I want to finish the session!”

I am trying really hard to stay calm, but I’m literally shaking as I speak.

Me: “I am ending the session. Your images will be sent to our corporate office so they can assess this violation of our safety procedures. They will contact you if they can release the photos.”

Customer: “You f****** b****! I will have your job!”

Me: *Putting my hand on the phone* “If you don’t leave, I’ll have to call security.”

It turned out that I didn’t have to call them. The woman started screaming bloody murder — seriously, horror movie loud — and the optical department next door called for me. Security escorted the woman and her bewildered son out of the store. She never got her pictures. I felt so bad for the poor kid, who didn’t do anything but try to listen to his mother’s directions. I hope he turned out okay.


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Well, It’s Certainly Memorable, Part 2

, , , , | Working | September 23, 2020

I am the author of this story. About six months after I stop working with this person, I receive a call from one of the higher-ups of the company asking me to come back and work for them with a promotion and 30% raise. It’s a hard offer to pass up. I meet with my former district manager — [Former Boss]’s boss — for lunch to discuss how the transition would work. 

District Manager: “So, it wouldn’t be the same thing you were doing before, but we can get you up to speed on the changes.”

Me: “That sounds great, and I’d like to come back as long as the support system is in place.”

District Manager: “Yes, we can get [Former Coworker] to help out.”

Me: *Incredulous* “[Former Coworker]?”

District Manager: “Yes, she was promoted to another location a couple of months ago.” 

Me: “Is [Former Coworker #2] still around?” 

District Manager: “What happened? How’s your relationship with [Former Coworker]?”

I pause. I think about deflecting. I think about lying. Then, I decide I don’t owe her anything.

Me: “Honestly, it’s terrible.”

District Manager: “What happened?”

Me: “Well, [Former Boss] hired and paid her to be my videographer when I got married. After jerking me around for a year and a half, she finally admitted to losing all my reception footage. I never even got an apology. So, if I have a choice, I’d prefer to work with [Former Coworker #2].”

District Manager: “Oh, my God. I knew she could be flaky, but that is unbelievable. Don’t worry; I’ll make sure you’re working with someone else.”

To be honest, I felt a little guilty about ratting her out to her big boss, even though I knew it wouldn’t lead to any repercussions for her. Maybe I am a vengeful person. But the triumph of being perfectly frank about her behavior was so, so sweet.

Related:
Well, It’s Certainly Memorable